


Risqué

by eyemeohmy



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 22:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20496518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: Jim thinks Drake and Launchpad are out of their minds, making such an outlandish request. But so was he.





	Risqué

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NegaAria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegaAria/gifts).

> Entirely inspired and written around [this VERY NSFW art](https://twitter.com/DuckDiksWoohoo/status/1166451047558209536) of a Jim/LP/Drake threesome. Thanks much to the artist for giving me permission to do a little fic for it. I hope to goodness you all enjoy it! Nega-Aria, if you like the fic, I'd like to dedicate it to you! You know, if you wish. ;; GOOD LORD I'M A FUCKING BABY JESUS CHR
> 
> ANYWAY, please forgive any grammatical errors.

Jim knew, after everything that had been said and done, Drake Mallard and Launchpad McQuack, his two self-proclaimed biggest fans, were most likely out of their fucking minds. 

The two had been quick to forgive Jim after his episode; they'd been supportive during the dark days, medical/psychological treatment, and hard times that followed. Jim still wasn't sure if he was grateful or annoyed--he didn't quite understand Drake and Launchpad, their way of thinking. Jim wasn't always so jaded and bitter, however, but he wasn't sure he could be as empathetic as they were.

That... hurt a little, actually, but like many things, Jim buried that hurt deep, deep down inside of him. Good thing he'd recently purged a lot of repressed issues, so there was plenty of space for new ones.

However, when the couple asked Jim if he'd be interested in a threesome, Jim knew then and there that yes, Drake Mallard and Launchpad McQuack were, indeed, a few French fries short a Funso kid's meal.

But Jim was too, so really, it worked out just fine.

"You faint on me," Jim growled, setting aside his sunglasses and unbuttoning his coat, "and I beat your ass." He pointed between Drake and Launchpad, the two sitting naked on the edge of their bed, watching Jim with wide eyes and dumb, starstruck expressions. "That goes for the _both_ of you, got it?"

The two nodded mutely, unblinking, Launchpad's jaw hanging open.

Jim couldn't help but smirk. After the big studio disaster and making a complete ass of himself--among many other, more _critical_ things--his deflated pride was badly in need of a boost. Even if it was already too massive for his own good. So he smiled, a wry, coy little thing, with his hooded bedroom eyes as he took his time shrugging off the coat, fingers working inside his turtleneck and lightly tugging. Both younger partners promptly folded their legs, Drake biting hard on his tongue. Jim pulled off his undershirt and shook his head like a model emerging from cool waters in a tight fitting bikini maybe one size too small.

Jim stood up straight, puffing out his chest as he ran fingers through his few head feathers. The couple were practically feasting off his body, deep-throat eye-fucking; he felt a warm tickle down his spine. Although Jim had kept himself in relatively good shape, it'd been a while since he'd been with anyone, especially sexually, _especially_ especially someone who could appreciate his age. "You don't have to say it," Jim preened, turning to give them a flick of his tail, and Launchpad's eyes starting rolling back into his head, Drake jolting out of his daze to hold his partner up, "I still got it."

Then Jim waited expectantly for them to say it.

"Y-You do! You so still got it!" Launchpad exclaimed a bit too loudly, both mallards wincing. He was trembling, teeth practically rattling. "You l-look just like you d-do in all my fantasies!"

"It's uncanny!" Drake said, nodding enthusiastically. Although in _his_ fantasies, Jim was less naked, more leather and corsets.

Jim was honestly surprised the two hadn't asked him to wear his Darkwing Duck costume. However, as... _odd_ as they were, Drake and Launchpad knew it was a very delicate, sensitive situation for Jim. It'd be best not to trigger anything--especially if it'd lead to another breakdown. Jim could respect that; he wasn't sure he would have accepted if they had asked him to don the cape again.

Jim took the bottle of lube from the night stand and approached the two in an elegant but predatory stride. "Now," he leered, tossing the lube back and forth between hands, "who's first?"

Drake's hand shot up before Jim could even finish. "Of course," Jim sneered, a mischievous glimmer in his eye. "I call the shots." That'd been his first condition after agreeing to this weird tryst. "And I say..." Jim stroked his chin, narrowed eyes glancing between the two eager fanboys.

Jim beamed, snapping his fingers. He was suddenly face to face with Launchpad, the larger bird stiffening. "You," Jim said, then roughly shoved Launchpad onto his back with a hand to the chest. Launchpad gasped, releasing the air he'd been holding in. "Stay on your back." Jim turned his menacing gaze onto Drake. "And you..."

Drake squeaked as Jim took him by the arm, squeezing hard enough to break bone before gently pulling him closer, until their bodies were practically flush together. Drake's cheeks were burning red, shaking bad enough to give Jim aftershocks. Jim adjusted their positions so they both faced Launchpad. "As actors," Jim smirked, top bill brushing with Drake's, "I think we should put on a little show first."

Drake and Launchpad gasped, and then Drake eeped as he was angled back, arms thrown around Jim's shoulders to keep from falling over. Jim flipped open the bottle with his teeth, squeezing a dollop of lube on his fingers. All the while staring down Launchpad like a hawk with its wounded, dying prey. He'd put on a show, all right, and he expected Launchpad to watch and adore every second of it.

Jim pressed one wet finger to Drake's entrance, pushing in a few inches a little too deep. Drake's cry was cut off as Jim mashed their beaks together in a clumsy, heavy kiss. Launchpad twitched, jaw slowly going slack. Drake blinked his wide eyes, then immediately returned the kiss, hungry and needy, eyes squeezed closed. 

Jim worked his finger in deeper, Drake's legs automatically spreading, thighs twitching. A perfect view for their speechless, half-mast audience. When he got to the knuckle, Jim hooked his finger up, and this time he bit down and sucked on Drake's tongue when he cried out. Drake dropped back on one quivering arm to prop himself up, the other clinging to Jim. 

Jim glanced back at Launchpad, who hadn't blinked since they started, then to Drake. He had to admit, his "replacement" was a handsome mallard. Always room for improvement, of course, but the way he open-mouth panted and whimpered, his cheek and head feathers disheveled and moist with sweat... Jim could feel his own cock hardening against his thigh. He swallowed dryly, and with a determined growl, started pressing in a second finger.

Drake yelped, throwing his head back and bucking. Launchpad wheezed, grabbing at his hard dick and giving it a tug. Jim scowled and slapped it off. "Nuh uh," he chided, "hands at your sides."

Launchpad whimpered, firmly placing his hands on the bed.

"Jim..." Drake rasped, leaning forward to nuzzle into the older duck's neck. "_Jim_..." He ground down into the probing, scissoring fingers as his beak kneaded Jim's throat, nipping at the feathers-- Jim froze, as did his fingers, earning a tiny little whine from both partners.

"Are you... grooming me?" Jim asked, bug-eyed.

Drake sat back, frowning. "I--I'm sorry!" he apologized, guilty. He looked as if he'd just been smacked and promptly scolded, glazed eyes lowering. "If that bothered--I didn't mean--"

"No," Jim interrupted, licking his bill, "it... just... surprised me." He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been groomed. Jim had never really been interested--it always seemed too... romantic. Like with his previous partners, he never had any intentions or desires to get any closer. Raw, hard sex, all wham, bam, and there's the door. Bonding was just too awkward.

"Do you... want me to continue?" Drake asked. He shifted uncomfortably on the still fingers inside of him. "I... if you want, but I won't if you don't... want to. That is."

"It's..." Why was he so Goddamn flustered? "... Whatever. I don't care." Because two could play this game. Drake keened as Jim thrust his fingers up, digging into muscle and flesh, then dropped forward to sink his teeth in the younger duck's shoulder. The way Drake spasmed and clenched around him--Jim loosened his grip, lapping just lightly at the feathers in his mouth. 

Drake panted, dropping his head against Jim's and cuddling.

Jim flinched and pulled out his fingers. "Act--act one is over, kids," he grumbled, touching the erect, warm plumage on his neck. He turned, sitting beside Launchpad. "He's kind of waifish," he chuckled, nodding at Drake. Launchpad looked at his partner, red and shaking with legs spread and presenting slick thighs. "You could probably break him if you're a bit too rough." Jim took a fistful of the larger bird's chest feathers. "Think your clumsy, oafish ass can keep him from shattering?" And pulled.

Launchpad groaned, rising into Jim's hand. Drake hiccuped, rubbing his thighs anxiously together.

"Well?" Jim grabbed Launchpad's cock, stroking it deftly with lube-wet hands. "Can you, big guy?"

Launchpad whimpered, eyes shut tight until his head was hurting. "Y-Yes!" he whined. Drake gasped, sliding his palm down his cock. "Yes, I can, I totally can, it'll be fine, you'll be fine, Drake, it-it's fine! We're fine. I--It's f-f-ff--"

Jim nodded at Drake. "Mount 'im," he ordered, pointing to Launchpad's very red and eager cock.

Drake gulped but hurriedly climbed on top of Launchpad. He looked at his boyfriend, then at Jim, both approving, one slightly more desperate than the other. Drake inhaled, taking Launchpad by the base as he slowly and carefully lowered himself. Jim grinned cheek to cheek, eyes ablaze and precum wetting his belly. He almost looked manic, even a little... unsettling.

Drake instinctively braced his hands against Launchpad's chest as he continued lowering himself. Once comfortable, he stopped, giving them both a moment to breathe. But before Drake could raise his hips, before Launchpad could give the first thrust, Jim suddenly stood between them. He leered down at Drake, grinning toothily, as Launchpad gaped at the way his tail swished and wagged invitingly.

"I notice you both tend to talk way too damn much," Jim snorted, taking Drake by the chin and forcing his head up. Drake gulped, eyes lidded as Jim bent down to get face to face. "You..." His breath was hot and heavy against Drake's cheeks, and he opened his bill for a kiss-- "... Too small." Jim let him go, standing again and looking over his shoulder down at Launchpad. "But you..."

"M-Me?" Launchpad croaked, pointing at his face.

"You may not ramble or be as articulate as your 'better' half here," Jim smirked, "but your tongue is _much_ larger. And for this--simply perfect."

Launchpad blushed, smiling shyly. Then he realized what Jim was implying, and now his entire face burned, eyes bulging from his skull.

"Let's end the rehearsal," Jim snickered, hand cupping and pulling back his tail as he seated himself on Launchpad's open beak. Launchpad immediately took him by the hips, bucking up inside of Drake, startling the smaller duck from his foggy, aroused daze. Launchpad ran his tongue up along Jim's entrance, delighting at the way he shivered in response.

Jim grunted. He looked up at Drake, smiling crookedly. "C'mere," he said, curling a beckoning finger. Drake fell forward as Launchpad thrust inside him again, building a steady and slow rhythm. Jim took his face in his hands, sealing them in another fevered kiss until the younger bird was choking on his tongue.

Drake squeezed Jim by the shoulders, riding eagerly down on Launchpad's cock as it pried him further apart. Launchpad pressed his tongue inside Jim's hole, and Jim's groan vibrated down Drake's throat, their kiss deepening. That had to count for some sort of shared kiss between the three.

Jim pulled back, breaking strings of drool connecting their beaks. He licked his bill, for a moment just enjoying the contorting expressions on Drake's face, the tongue swirling inside him. "Good, good," he swallowed, sinking his fingers into the younger duck's chest. Drake dropped his head back with a cute little moan, and Jim dragged his fingers down, deep into the skin beneath the fluffed feathers.

Launchpad rolled his hips, picking up pace, nearly completely sheathed inside his lover. His hands lowered to wrap around Jim's legs, just above his knees. He pulled out his tongue, eyes hooded, lost in a daydream as he fondly licked and nuzzled Jim open and stroked the base of his tail.

Jim gasped, grinding his ass down against Launchpad. Launchpad hummed, obediently pushing his tongue back inside. "Sh... shit..." Jim growled between bared teeth, leaning against Drake. Drake bucked up against the older duck, a goofy smile on his face. Their cocks brushed briefly, but it was enough incentive for Drake to suddenly grab them both in his pumping hand.

Jim cried out, eyes flying open. He sank back against Launchpad, taking the last bit of his tongue. And then suddenly Launchpad was hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves that reduced Jim to jelly with such expertise and precision--had Launchpad just been teasing before? Holding back? "Fuck!" Jim hissed, grinding in Drake's hand.

Drake followed the same pace and rhythm as the cock working inside of him. Jim whimpered in surprise as Drake's free hand firmly grabbed his chin, forcing his beak open. He watched in both awe and shock as the younger duck kissed him--tenderly, gently. Lovingly. Before Jim could reciprocate, Drake went to grooming his throat again, this time alternating from light nuzzling to hard and quick bites to his neck and shoulder.

Jim keened, heels digging into the mattress. He... hadn't expected this. It wasn't a bad turn of events, but it still felt a little... strange. It took Jim a minute to realize he was no longer in complete control, nor was he being controlled. Launchpad, Drake--they were pampering him, never going past any limits, possibly restraining to make sure Jim--everyone--was comfortable and content.

"I..." Jim blinked his glazed eyes. He also just now realized he was bowing and rubbing into Drake's beak and tongue. "I..." He what? His head was both heavy and light at the same time. He couldn't think; at least not clearly. Jim's eyes went lidded, body swaying and giving into the pleasure. Drake stopped preening to kiss him again.

No. No. Jim was not going to be outdone. He suddenly reached around Drake, grabbing and yanking hard on his tail. Drake yelped and with a full body shudder, came in his hand, on both their cocks. Jim grinned triumphantly, only to mewl as Launchpad lapped hard against his g-spot.

Drake sat back on his arms, wincing as he continued bouncing on Launchpad's cock. 

"I think you'd have more s-stamina," Jim taunted. Then Launchpad twisted his tongue just right, and Jim orgasmed with a strained cry. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" he keened, eyes rolling back and crossing as he milked off the last waves of climax. He almost jolted off Launchpad, spilling himself on his stomach, a little catching on Drake's thighs.

Drake grinned crookedly. "You have a gorgeous orgasm face, Jim," he said cheerfully, "I wish I took a picture so I cou--ah!" He grabbed his beak, ashamed. "S-Sorry, that was in--"

"Off," Jim grunted, shoving Drake back and off of Launchpad's cock. He rose up on his knees, and Launchpad looked as if he'd just been punched--in the face, and the dick.

"W-What is it?" Launchpad asked, nervously fidgeting. "You guys, did--what? No? Huh?"

Jim crawled down Launchpad, roughly pushing aside a leg. He got down on one elbow, reaching back to tug Drake's hand. Drake stared down at Jim, confused, but then Jim's grin split his face and the younger duck understood, nodding excitedly and newly blushing.

"You guys," Launchpad whined, going to sit up, "did you make up a safeword behind my b--" He froze, beak slapping shut. Watching as Drake and Jim got down between his legs, each cupping the base of his cock; they stared up at him, eyes hooded and glinting as they ran their tongues up along his shaft, around his head. Jim up, Drake down.

Launchpad caught himself before he could black out. He couldn't believe--was this even real--was... was he dead? Both Darkwing Ducks going down on him, together, at the same time. Drake now tenderly suckling his shaft as Jim lapped at his slit in heavy strokes. Both their asses in the air, both their tails flicking.

Launchpad was torn between groaning with pleasure and cooing at their adorable tails. Then the two ducks--his two heroes--made the choice for him. After one last lick up his cock, Launchpad's hips jerked, nearly smashing against their faces as he came. Drake and Jim both opened their mouths, tasting semen on their tongues, more splattering along their bills; some between Jim's eyes, some in Drake's head feathers. Drake suckled any last drop of cum from Launchpad's dick while Jim licked a line of it off his shaft.

Launchpad collapsed, boneless and moaning like a blubbering whale.

Jim and Drake sat back. Jim looked at the younger duck wiping the cum from his face. "I guess we have _that_ in common, too," he snorted, thumbing off the mess between his eyes and smearing the feathers.

Drake bent down and took Jim's thumb in this mouth. Jim blinked, surprised. He laughed softly, stroking one of Drake's hips.

"I'malive!" Launchpad snorted, bolting upright. "Didn't faint, didn't faint didn't f--" He almost did, however, once he saw Drake sucking Jim's fingers as Jim massaged his hip.

"Good," Jim sneered. "Then you can clean us up." He tilted his head at the semen still in Drake's hair.

Launchpad beamed. "Can do!" He sat forward, burying his beak against Drake's head as he lapped up the semen. Drake released Jim's fingers to kiss him, and it was... nauseatingly sweet. Jim felt a little uncomfort-- He gasped, Launchpad cupping the back of his head and pulling him over to join them.

The three-way kiss wasn't exactly... well coordinated, but it certainly had an interesting taste. And nobody was complaining anyway.


End file.
